


Return To Sender

by Nellblazer



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Domestic Violence, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Guns, Knives, On the Run, Physical Abuse, Recovery, Sad Ending, Smut, Stalking, dark bucky barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:15:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25386676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nellblazer/pseuds/Nellblazer
Summary: Fleeing an abusive relationship, you realise Bucky will never let you go.Written for @imanuglywombat‘s challenge using the prompts Countryside and Letter to Hermione by David Bowie*Please do not replicate my work anywhere else without my express permission*
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 122





	Return To Sender

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Domestic violence references, dubcon, knives, guns, stalking, obsessive behaviour, manipulation, abuse recovery.
> 
> (Possible proof reading errors)
> 
> \- NB xx

It was three in the morning when I finally broke free of Bucky Barnes.

I'd played at being docile for three weeks, been his perfect little girlfriend, done whatever he asked and he'd let his guard down. There were times I almost broke, almost gave the game away when my natural defiance rose up but I shoved it down. I had to flee.

Bucky and I had started out like some whirlwind romance novel and I'd been so blind to the red flags that were glaringly obvious at the time. He never wanted to be away from me, he was always subtly asserting his ownership of me around other people, he liked to dazzle me with gifts instead of saying sorry when we fought.

Gradually those red flags grew enough to become red fucking drapes the first time he locked me in the house.

He hadn't approved of the fact I'd wanted to go out and see my friends, that somehow it meant I didn't love him if I was so ready to be out of his company. I'd stayed but I was pissed off. He made up for it the next day by taking me out to an expensive restaurant.

My freedoms slowly eroded and I barely even realised until I noticed my social media accounts had considerably less friends than I remembered, either through Bucky deleting people or through me cutting all ties. I was so isolated and unhappy.

I can never quite describe the culture of fear in which I lived in. The hidden side of this man I was entangled with was dark and it was cruel. He loved to humiliate me, call me degrading names, force me to _do_ degrading things and then soothe it all over with sweet affection. He was physically violent when I pushed back against his tyranny but he was clever enough to only hurt me in places that weren't immediately visible.

I had to get out before this man killed me.

So, at three in the morning, after a day of covertly hiding my packed bag and pretending nothing was wrong, of giving him the kind of sex where he liked to call me his little doll and manipulate me as such, I sneaked out of the bed and padded in my socks to muffle my footsteps to the front door.

Gently I retrieved my bag and coat and my shoes, not daring to put them on just yet and left the house. In the dark street, I put on my sneakers and just ran, I ran until I had a sharp pain in my side.

Going back to my apartment after so long felt like a victory. It was musty and it was bare but it was mine, it was a space away from everything and I'd not been here in five months.

I didn't sleep the rest of the night though. I pushed my couch in front of the door, terrified that Bucky would come find me as soon as he realised and I sat on the floor, my back to the wall just watching, a baseball bat in my hand and the steely resolution that I was myself again and I'd never let him pull me back.

**

Two weeks went by and there was no fallout from my escape.

I began to be on edge, trapping myself in a prison of my very own, too scared if I went outside that he'd be waiting. Eventually I had to start living again though so I did a very short run to the grocery store and back.

When I returned, there was a hand delivered letter that had been shoved under my front door. I knew who it was from by the writing.

Bucky.

I should've thrown it in the trash but curiosity got the better of me and I opened it, sinking onto my beaten up couch to read.

_My babydoll,_

_Every morning I still sweep the pillow next to me imagining you're there but you're not. You're not. You left me. I can't believe you left me like that._

_You tore my soul apart, you know? Not even an explanation or a single word. You just vanished into the night._

_I kept waiting by the phone wondering if you'd call but you're not going to, are you?_

_I love you, doll. I love you and I think maybe deep down you still feel the same so please call me and I'll change, I'll do anything to get you back._

_I promise._

_Yours always,_

_Bucky._

Now I finally put it in the trash after ripping the paper into tiny pieces.

I wouldn't be taken in by his honeyed words again. I wasn't an idiot. He'd done this too many times to be believable.

The only thing that became clear to me though is I'd have to move. I couldn't predict if I ignored his letter that he would just leave me alone considering he'd just visited. As much as I'd gone off the grid with technology, he could still reach me physically here.

I wasn't done running just yet.

**

A new town, a new place and a new job.

Two months had passed since I fled Bucky's house and I was finally dragging long buried parts of my personality back out. I remembered, during one day at the office I now worked in, that I was actually kinda funny. I made my colleagues laugh a lot.

That quick wit I'd always harboured had been pressed out of me around Bucky. He never appreciated my jokes and in the end I became too afraid to make them for fear of provoking him.

I was doing well.

I didn't dare venture back out in a proper social life and definitely not the dating scene. I was nowhere near ready to start trusting people again.

Mostly I spent my nights alone in my new apartment, the crushing loneliness sometimes getting to me where I'd cry silently in my bed, wondering if I'd ever fully heal.

The letter came three weeks later.

Again it was hand delivered and a chill of terror prickled up my spine to see the beautiful cursive writing that was taunting me.

_My lost little babydoll,_

_You seem to be doing well and I've not seen your smile sparkle like that in so long._

_You were always good at making others laugh and you light up the office, don't you? The new little darling of the company._

_I miss when you'd smile like that for me. I miss when you'd make me laugh. It feels like so long ago now. I stopped you from being happy though, didn't I?_

_Something tells me you're still not happy now though. I've seen you in here, crying in the dark. I cry with you, doll. I wish I could say something to make it okay but I don't know what I'm supposed to do._

_Tell me how I can make this better._

_Please._

_Your Bucky._

I was stupid to think he wouldn't find me. He was an Avenger after all. He probably used Stark tech to track down the payments I'd made to my new landlord.

As much as I liked my job, I'd have to move again. I'd have to get far away and change my name. Maybe he wouldn't find me again there.

I was terrified by the implication that he'd been watching through my windows and the next day at work, I spoke to my boss, spilling the entire story and breaking down, saying I would have to quit.

I was surprised when he suggested I transfer to one of the branches in another state, that he'd sort that out immediately so I could start next week and we chose a new name that was so unlike my own, Bucky would never figure it out.

**

A new state, a new place, same job.

Three months since I'd left Bucky and assumed a different identity. The first few days were hard, always looking over my shoulder but I knew enough of Bucky's covert skills to keep my tracks hidden.

He'd have to pull some seriously illegal strings to find me now.

Three months bled into six, six into nine and I didn't hear anything in all that time.

I started dating again, a work colleague. He was patient with me, even though I was a little reticent to start with. I never told him about my past because I didn't want him to look at me with pity. I wanted a fresh start.

Our relationship was slow building but I liked that fact. It took another couple of months of dates and chaste kisses before we finally ended up in bed together.

I lay there in his arms, knowing he was a good man but also hating myself, despising myself that I was comparing his performance to Bucky's. What was wrong with me?

As much as Bucky was vile, he knew exactly how to work my body, could push me right to the limit of endurance with pleasure and could switch between a range of sexual experiences from soft loving sex to downright brutal domination.

The man I was currently wrapped in had no idea how to please me but he tried. I just hoped that would be enough, that I could forget Bucky's touch eventually and finally accept that I was no longer his.

I even prayed in fact and I've not done that since I was a child.

One year had gone by since Bucky and I was settled into a comfortable relationship. It wasn't fiery and passionate but it was safe and it was loving. That's what I needed right now.

When I got back from work, just before the Fourth of July weekend, I almost didn't notice the letter until I trod on it and scuffed it into the house with me.

Was it him? Had he found me even here?

I tore it open immediately, the outside of the envelope blank but once I saw the writing, I knew Bucky had finally caught up.

_My beautiful babydoll,_

_It's been a while, hasn't it?_

_You've moved on but I can't let go of you in my heart. Even now I still dream of you._

_But your new guy, he treats you well, I can see that. He makes you laugh and he's a strong stable presence. He's everything I'm not._

_But I can't help but hope that sometimes, when you're fucking each other that your mind might wander to me. I wonder if you've ever almost called my name by mistake._

_I remember the noises I could draw from you, the expressions, the way you'd dig your fingers into my back when I was deep in you. I don't think he's ever going to be able to replicate that._

_Can you live with that? If you can, I'll stop writing. If you can't, I'll welcome you back with open arms._

_I'm still willing to change, baby. Tell me what you want from me. I'll do anything._

_I miss you. I miss you so fucking much it hurts._

_Sending all my love to you,_

_Bucky._

Even after a change of name, a change of state he still found me. He was never going to let me go.

He was right though, my relationship wouldn't last and that's why I didn't feel utterly terrible about breaking it off the next day.

I quit my job, I used all my remaining savings, bought a passport in another fake name and emigrated to England. I found a cottage in the middle of the countryside, away from everyone and everything.

If he could catch up to me here, I would never be free of him. That would be it.

I could only run so far for so long.

**

My cottage was beautiful in the rare instances of sun here.

I loved its thatched roof, it's wonky panelling and all the flowers that climbed up the side of it. I didn't need a fancy house like Bucky's was, fully integrated with tech. This suited me just fine.

In my mornings I would walk in the surrounding woods and fields, just content to be alone and content to be in nature. In my evenings I would sit by my fire in the big squashy armchair, reading my books until my eyes were too tired to focus.

I got my groceries by driving out to the nearest town and I promised myself I'd get a job once my funds were hitting critical but for now, I'd take the break. I wanted to do absolutely nothing for once and do it on my own terms.

Summer became winter and Christmas rolled by without any incident. I got a job in the post office in the village. It wasn't big money by any means but it was comfortable and it paid for my quiet lifestyle. The locals didn't bother me and I didn't bother them.

Summer was coming back round again and I could take my long walks once more and, after planting some new crocuses, I set off down the trail.

When I got back to my cottage, the window was open where I was sure I'd closed it before. I searched the entire place top to bottom but found nothing. Maybe I was just being overly paranoid. It had almost been a year since I came here and there was no evidence that Bucky could've found me.

I didn't sleep very well that night, jumpy at every loud noise and by the time dawn rolled around, I got up for my walk feeling dazed and on edge. The sunlight was streaming through the trees as I ambled along, sipping from my sports bottle as I made my way around the familiar route and I began to calm down, feel more normal.

I'd just forgotten to close the window is all. I shouldn't get worked up about it.

There was a crack of a twig that sounded out like a gunshot and I whirled around, my heart rate spiking. Nobody was there.

I was about to brush it off as an animal when, in the corner of my eye, I saw a figure lurking behind an oak tree. I bolted as quickly as I could, running for the safety of home and I definitely heard footsteps walking casually behind me.

When I got to the cottage, I locked myself in, shuttered every window and sat there, wondering if I'd just seen Bucky or whether there was just some creep hanging around in the woods. I waited, trembling for what felt like forever but nothing more happened.

It can't have been Bucky. It just can't. I had a new name, I fled America, I'm in the middle of nowhere with no paper trail of the sale of this cottage.

It still didn't make it any easier to stop being jittery.

**

A week after the incident in the woods and, after a long stretch at work, I plucked up the courage to venture out into the woods again, almost regretting the instant I left the boundary of my gate and rose bushes but determined to push myself.

If I kept living in fear, he'd won. It didn't matter how far apart from him I was, the cage around my mind was all he needed to keep me under his control.

I was apprehensive and wary and I took a pocket knife with me just in case but I just had a pleasant stroll in the morning sun as it dappled through the dancing leaves above. I returned home feeling braver, feeling like I'd accomplished something.

I felt that right up until I walked into my living room and saw Bucky in the armchair, reading a book like he'd lived here for years.

“Hey babydoll,” he smiles that charming smile. “Wow, when you go all out, you go all out. I'm impressed, sweetheart. Not many people can hide from me this long.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” I try to keep my voice steady.

“My last letter,” he puts the book down. “I said if you could cope with your new guy not being so great in the sack then I'd stop but you just left everything. I thought you wanted me to follow? Took me a damn long time but I'm here.”

“I...I didn't want you to follow,” I'm aware I'm shaking now. “I wanted to be left alone. I wanted to get away from everything.”

He stands up but I don't shrink back any more. I'm not as docile as I was.

“Ah,” he looks down. “I thought....is there anything I can do, doll? You've gotta have seen how desperate I am to be with you again. I still love you, even after two years. You're all I think about.”

“Only because I got away.”

“No, no, babydoll. That's not it,” he shakes his head, his longer hair swishing around his face. “You're the only woman I've ever loved this much and I doubt I'll ever love someone this fiercely again. I'm not ready to give up. I know I messed up and I know I hurt you-”

“-Hurt me?” I scoff. “I was nothing. I was _less_ than nothing by the end. I was just a warm body.”

“You were my life. How dare you say that,” he comes up close to me, towering over me. “I just loved you too much. It's an obsession.”

“Bucky, if you ever loved me, you'll leave right now,” I point to the door without looking in that direction. I don't want to take my eyes off of him. “I want to be alone. I don't care if I ever kiss somebody again. I just want to be left alone.”

“You know that's not true. You think I haven't heard you call for me in your sleep? That I've not seen you touching yourself and it's definitely about me because you curl your hand around your throat when you cum. You used to love it when I did that.”

“Bucky, please leave,” I'm getting desperate now, hyper aware that I was in such a dangerous situation.

And now I'm being pinned against the wall and my bravery is evaporating fast. I was always weak when he did this.

Bucky looks around himself at the cottage before smiling so sweetly, even as he's bruising my wrists in his grip, “You know, you always did have the best ideas. We don't need tech in the house, we don't need the city or even the suburbs. This would be beautiful, you and me in the countryside without anyone interfering and we could just be happy together. I would love to read to you by the fire or the other way around. Wouldn't that be bliss, sweetheart?”

“You're hurting me!” I struggle against him and, to my surprise, he lets go.

“Sorry, I'm just overexcited. What do you say? Give me another chance? Tell me what you want from me and I'll give it to you.”

“I want you to go.”

“I'm trying here. Please see that,” he pleads, using all the old manipulation tricks. “God, I just miss you. It's killing me. I just want us to be together and have a family.”

“How can I have a family with you when you never let me out of the house?” I counter, my anger flaring me into action as I prod him in the chest with each point. “How can I have a family with you when you wouldn't let me near another man? What if the midwife is not a woman, huh? How can I have a family with you when you might hurt my kid?”

“I would never,” his eyes go wide. “I would never hurt a child. You know that.”

“Just me.”

“And I'm sorry. Please, I want to be better.”

“I can't trust that.”

He takes out his combat knife and for a moment I think he means to kill me but then he flips it over in his hand so the blade is facing him and extends it out to me. I take it swiftly and he strips himself of every weapon he has, down to the secret ones in his boots.

“You have all the power now,” he holds his hands up. “You can trust that.”

“Do I? Look at me, Bucky. I can't overpower a super soldier. This isn't any better.”

He takes one of the guns from the floor and gives it to me, “Then take that too. I'm strong but I'm not bulletproof.”

I train it directly between his eyes and he just laughs softly, “You really gonna kill me? If that's what you want then do it. I'm dead when I'm away from you anyway.”

When my hand wavers, my aim becomes shaky and my arm starts dropping, he takes my wrist and puts it above my head, closing the gap and kissing me. I try to push him away but that's always been a fruitless thing.

“I've waited so long to be with you again,” he purrs in between kisses before trailing them down my neck.

Both my wrists are now in his grip but it's not severe and I still have the gun above me. If I angled it down and pulled the trigger, my nightmare would be over but he was just at that spot that makes me keen, makes me crumble.

He was working me over softly, the way that just pulls that ache between my legs. I fought as hard as I could to hold on but a tiny whimper escaped my lips and I could feel him grinning against my skin.

“I _knew_ you missed me too,” he whispers against my ear, biting the lobe gently. “Let me show you how much I love you, babydoll.”

“No,” I blurt out, trying to claw back control.

“No?” he chuckles. “You sure? You're grinding back against me a hell of a lot. Oh sugar, you want this, I know you do. You've been alone for so long. You must be so pent up.”

Was I grinding against him? I realised I was. His powerful thigh was between my legs and I caught myself mid-movement.

“You don't need to be embarrassed,” he murmurs. “You know I always liked pleasing you.”

I was fogged, caught between my fear and my lust. I knew if he had me, it was game over but if I tried to shoot him now and failed....what the hell would he do to me then?

He picked me up and carried me to the bedroom upstairs with the quaint metalwork headboard and the cosy floral sheets.

“You know, I like this better than my place,” he remarks, setting me back down. “It has character. It's very you. I really should've let you decorate.”

That snaps me out of my haze and I place the gun underneath his chin. He looks surprised for a moment before calming down and I don't know whether it's acceptance or pure arrogance that he thought I wouldn't go through with it.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he says softly. “You want me dead, go ahead. You wanna hold the power and make me please you, do that too.”

Again I stall. I'm not a killer, I'm not but I don't know what else to do. I can feel the trap closing in, I can see it even but I still can't pull the trigger.

“Let me taste you again,” he offers, eyes sparkling. “Let me make you cum. Hold that to my head the entire time. I don't care.”

He's undoing the cord of my sweatpants and I'm still just stood there. I hate that somewhere in the back of my brain is a voice telling me to let him fuck me, that he really might have changed. He hadn't, I know he hadn't and yet he was tugging down my pants and underwear before dropping to his knees after I readjusted my aim to his temple.

I felt his warm breath tickling my inner thighs as he kissed them with a featherlight touch. Bucky hadn't lost any of his old skills it seemed. I was desperate for him to move his mouth just a bit more to the centre but he wouldn't. He was intent on teasing me until I demanded something from him, I was sure of it.

“Strip,” I say shakily.

“What's that doll?” he looks up at me.

“Strip.”

If anything, he was even more chiselled now. Maybe he'd been training for the day where he found me. His hard and scarred body was bared for me to see and his thick cock twitched as I scanned my eyes over him.

“Completely vulnerable here, babydoll,” he catches my train of thought.

“Then make me fucking cum,” I hiss, sitting on the bed, not daring to let go of my weapon.

“I'm so happy to hear you say that,” he grins before kneeling back down in between my legs and letting his tongue swathe through the mess he's already created. “So sweet. God I've missed how you taste.”

Then he dives on me, locking his hands around my thighs to keep me in place before swirling his tongue around my clit and making me jerk with the sensation. I don't dare shut my eyes though, I don't dare look away. If I completely surrendered myself it was over.

The fingers of his vibranium hand slip into me, cold at first but a welcome contrast to the pure fire that's burning inside me. He's driving me so hard and fast to the edge and I'm hooking my legs over his shoulders, caging him in, keeping him close.

The only time I close my eyes is when I cum and it's so earth shattering that I nearly squeeze the trigger by accident. I fall backwards onto the bed with the strength of it, twitching and shaking in Bucky's grip as he works me through it until finally he lets me go.

“Shit, babygirl. Oh my god, I forgot how loud you used to be, how fucking responsive,” he growls, prowling up the bed and leaning over me. “Say I can fuck you. Say I can slide my cock into that tight pussy of yours, feel the last of your aftershocks. Come on, doll. Say I can.”

Asking for consent was new. Maybe he really had changed.

“Yes,” I pant, discarding the gun onto the side table but putting the knife to his throat instead.

I was delirious with lust but I wasn't stupid.

“Fair enough,” Bucky smirks before sinking his cock into me.

The burn was rough after being celibate for so long but when he was seated, he kissed the top of my forehead lovingly before starting to roll his hips languidly. He groaned heavily as he stretched me out.

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” he savages his bottom lip. “Oh doll, I've dreamed of this for years.”

“Harder,” I order him.

I didn't want loving in that moment. I just wanted to be fucked.

“Sure?”

“Yes.”

The snap of his pelvis made me whine in pleasure and he picked up his pace, going roughly. Sometimes I'd feel something drop on me, only to realise he'd accidentally leant into the blade and nicked his throat. He didn't seem to care that he was bleeding.

I could barely breathe, his rhythm was ferocious and I was caught in a half scream, half wail as his cock pounded into me.

“You want me to fill you up, sweetheart?” Bucky growls, the bed shaking violently underneath us. “Want me to cum in your tight little pussy, huh?”

I didn't want him to stop but if he didn't and he knocked me up, I'd be bound to him forever.

“No,” I choke out.

“Alright then. Over you it is.”

Bucky grabs my wrist with the knife, knocking it out of my hand before flipping me onto my stomach and reseating himself. He fucks me like that for a while, hand curling around my throat whilst the other delves around and starts toying with my clit.

“Come on, baby. One more for me before I finish,” he urges me on, driving deep with every thrust.

And I give him one more. I cum hard around his cock, squeezing it before he pulls out and I feel hot ropes of his cum splatter over my thighs and ass.

There's regret, instant regret that I caved into him but what else could I do? At least this had been vaguely on my terms.

“Doll, why are you crying?” he says softly as he lies next to me on the bed and I didn't even realise I was. “Come here. I'll take care of you. I'll be better for you. I promise.”

He pulls me into his chest, just like he used to do during those first months of dating. I wish I could believe he was back to that person. I wish I could.

I eyed the gun on the side table and he caught the action.

“Keep it,” he hands it to me. “If it makes you feel safe, keep it. Just say you'll give me another chance. I love you so much.”

I don't give him a verbal answer. I just nod and he accepts it, kissing the top of my head.

I have no choice. Even if he leaves and I just upend my life again, he'll find me. He'll find me wherever I go.

On the off chance he's changed, maybe this will be okay but if he hasn't.....

I stare at the gun as he relaxes into the pillows, dozing slightly in his afterglow. Someday I'd have the courage. Someday I'd have the courage to free myself for good.

Someday.


End file.
